Header illustration: an imagined Subiaco streetscape, rather than a photograph of the original premises.
Over the years, I've found myself involved in some rather unusual business ventures. And occasionally, the most entertaining experiences had very little to do with the business I was supposed to be conducting.
One such episode began when I found myself establishing and running a new branch of our finance company's pawnbroking operations in Subiaco, an inner suburb of Perth, Western Australia.
We found suitable premises, set up the business, employed the staff and opened our doors.
Everything was perfectly respectable.
Well, almost.
Because right next door was Barbarella's, one of Perth's better-known adult shops.
I was enormously amused by the coincidence.
Here we were, operating a pawn shop, immediately alongside another establishment that, in a rather different sense, was in the porn business.
A pawn shop and a porn shop, side by side!
I thought that was hilarious.
I remember wondering whether we should hang the traditional three balls outside our pawnbroking shop. Then it occurred to me that Barbarella’s next door should probably have two.
The idea never came to anything. Probably just as well.
Getting to Know the Neighbours
Running a pawnbroking business could be interesting, but there were inevitably quieter periods when there wasn't much happening.
I'd leave the staff looking after things and wander around Subiaco, getting to know the neighbourhood and the people running the surrounding businesses.
I've always enjoyed meeting people. You never know where a conversation might lead, and I've made some of my most interesting business connections in the most unlikely places.
Naturally, I was curious about our immediate neighbours.
Barbarella's sold adult novelties, various intriguing contraptions and an extensive collection of videos.
Yes, videos.
This was long before streaming and downloading. If you wanted to watch a film at home, you rented a videocassette, took it home and returned it afterwards.
Eventually, curiosity overcame my initial reluctance, and I decided to investigate.
I remember hoping nobody I knew would happen to be walking past as I entered.
Not that I had anything to be ashamed of, of course.
Nevertheless, I thought it prudent to slip through the door fairly quickly.
Once inside, I discovered that the people were perfectly friendly, and before long I became acquainted with the manager, Anne.
The Remarkable Anne
Anne was quite a character.
She was an attractive, confident woman with a particularly adventurous approach to fashion.
I especially remember her extraordinarily short leather miniskirts.
To this day, I'm not entirely convinced that some of them weren't belts masquerading as skirts.
She certainly knew how to make an impression.
We became friendly, and we also met socially outside working hours.
Getting to know Anne was how I came to meet the man behind the business.
Enter Rod
Through Anne, I eventually met Rod, the owner of the Barbarella's group.
I can't remember precisely how we were introduced. I suspect he came into the shop one day and Anne introduced us.
Rod was originally from England, as I was, and we got along rather well.
He operated several Barbarella's stores, and there was considerably more to the business than the casual passer-by might have imagined.
Rod spoke about the restrictions surrounding certain categories of videos and the attention they attracted from the police. I was learning about that world through him, rather than through any expertise of my own.
Barbarella's maintained an ordinary video rental library, but there was also a more discreet collection of adult titles available to selected customers.
As I understood it from Rod, these were the ones that attracted particular attention from the authorities.
And this is where the story takes a rather peculiar turn.
A Hole in the Wall
Our premises and Barbarella's occupied adjoining older buildings.
The upstairs areas were largely unused, and somewhere in the dividing wall between the two properties was an opening large enough for someone to climb through.
How it came to be there, I have no idea.
As I remember it, Rod saw a rather useful opportunity.
He asked whether he might store some of his more sensitive video collection upstairs on our side of the wall.
The reasoning, as he explained it to me, was simple enough.
If the police raided Barbarella's, the videos wouldn't actually be on Barbarella's premises.
They'd be next door.
In our building.
And whenever somebody needed access to the collection, they could climb through the opening and retrieve whatever was required.
Looking back, I can scarcely believe I agreed to it.
But I did.
At the time, I regarded it as a favour to a friend and neighbouring businessman. I didn't give sufficient thought to the legal implications or to the rather obvious possibility that I was helping someone conceal material from the authorities.
With the benefit of hindsight, it was a poor decision.
I've never claimed to have been perfect, and I certainly wasn't then.
Nevertheless, for a period, the upstairs area of our respectable pawnbroking establishment served as a rather unconventional annex to Barbarella's video library.
It was hardly something I would have mentioned in the company's annual report.
The Art of the Deal
One of my great pleasures in business has always been trading.
I've been a wheeler-dealer for as long as I can remember, and I particularly enjoyed barter arrangements.
Cash was all very well, but exchanging goods and services was much more entertaining.
I had developed a simple system.
If I had something for sale at a retail price of, say, $200, I wouldn't discount it for a barter deal.
Instead, I'd exchange it for $200 worth of merchandise or services from the other business, calculated at their normal retail prices.
No arguments about discounts. No haggling over margins.
Retail value for retail value.
If the exchange wasn't balanced, I'd simply keep a ledger recording who owed whom and how much.
I had these arrangements with all sorts of people and businesses.
It was a system that suited me enormously, and I became rather well known for it.
Rod occasionally visited our pawnbroking shop and spotted things he fancied buying.
Rather than take his cash, I'd arrange a trade.
Before long, I had accumulated a useful credit balance at Barbarella's.
Which presented an interesting question.
What on earth was I going to spend it on?
Shopping at Barbarella's
One afternoon, with a respectable amount of credit to my name, I wandered next door to investigate the possibilities.
This time, I was considerably less concerned about being seen entering the premises.
After all, I was practically part of the furniture by then.
I took my time browsing.
There were all manner of interesting items, some ingenious, some bewildering, and others whose intended purpose wasn't immediately apparent.
I selected several things that I thought might introduce a little additional excitement into my private life.
And then I came across something I'd never encountered before.
A penis enlarger.
Good heavens.
I examined this remarkable piece of equipment with considerable curiosity.
The claims were certainly ambitious, and the possibilities, at least as presented, seemed intriguing.
I had no idea whether it would work, but curiosity has always been one of my more persistent characteristics.
And, of course, I had credit to spend.
What happened next deserves a story entirely of its own.
An Invitation to Juliana's
My friendship with Rod continued, and one of its more enjoyable benefits was an invitation to the annual Barbarella's Christmas party.
Now, these were not ordinary office Christmas parties.
They had something of a reputation, and an invitation was regarded as quite a privilege.
The first one I attended was held at Juliana's nightclub in the Hilton Hotel in Perth.
Rod had booked the entire nightclub for the occasion.
Barbarella's employed a predominantly female workforce. I would estimate that perhaps 95 per cent of the staff were women.
And what a collection of personalities they were.
Confident, outgoing, glamorous and, generally speaking, considerably less inhibited than the average office Christmas party attendee.
When I arrived at Juliana's, I found myself surrounded by a sea of beautifully dressed women, all thoroughly determined to enjoy themselves.
It was quite a sight.
And there was me.
A Reluctant Dancing Man
Now, I have never considered myself a particularly accomplished dancer.
In fact, that's putting it rather generously.
I could manage a few movements when absolutely necessary, but I was under no illusion that my talents were likely to attract the attention of a professional choreographer.
Unfortunately, nobody at Juliana's seemed particularly interested in my limitations.
I was repeatedly invited onto the dance floor.
And when I say invited, I mean that declining didn't always appear to be an available option.
No sooner had I finished one dance than somebody else would appear, take me by the hand, and lead me back out again.
There were so many women and comparatively few men that male dancing partners were apparently in considerable demand.
I found myself enjoying a level of popularity to which I was quite unaccustomed.
It was all rather flattering.
My ego, I must admit, was having a splendid evening.
My feet were less enthusiastic.
By the end of the night, I was absolutely worn out.
I had danced more in one evening than I would ordinarily have managed in several years, and I suspect my dancing technique had deteriorated considerably as the hours passed.
Not that it had started from a particularly high standard.
But what an evening!
There was laughter, wonderful company, a tremendous atmosphere, and that delightful sense of being somewhere quite unlike the ordinary world of business.
I was invited again the following year, and the parties continued to live up to their reputation.
Being included in the Barbarella's Christmas celebrations was certainly one of the more unusual privileges to emerge from my business career.
Strange Bedfellows
Looking back, I find the whole episode rather amusing.
I had set out to establish a perfectly conventional pawnbroking business in Subiaco.
Instead, I found myself befriending the people next door, becoming acquainted with an extraordinarily colourful collection of characters, participating in some rather questionable storage arrangements, trading second-hand merchandise for adult novelties, and attending Christmas parties that would have made most corporate functions seem positively funereal.
There were friendships, business deals, a little romance, and more than a few moments that still make me smile.
Not every decision I made was particularly wise.
But life would be terribly dull if every recollection consisted entirely of sensible decisions and impeccably behaved people.
I've always enjoyed getting to know the people around me, whatever their background or occupation. Some of my most memorable experiences have come from friendships that began in the most unlikely circumstances.
And this particular friendship began with a pawn shop and a porn shop standing side by side in Subiaco.
One selling second-hand goods.
The other offering merchandise of a rather more personal nature.
I suppose you could say that both businesses were concerned with satisfying people's immediate needs, although the needs were somewhat different.
And what became of that extraordinary piece of equipment I acquired with my accumulated trading credit?
Well, that brings us to another little adventure.
One involving considerable optimism, a rather ingenious contraption, and an outcome that had rather more to do with my judgement than with the manufacturers’ instructions.
But that, dear reader, is the subject of another story.
